The Best Laid Plans

‘This is the State Journal in Frankfort …’

And so it went.

It seemed to Leslie that half of Lexington pitied her, and the other half rejoiced at what had happened to her. Wherever Leslie went, there were whispers and hastily broken-off conversations. She was fiercely determined not to show her feelings.

‘How could you let him do this to –?’

‘When you truly love someone,’ Leslie said firmly, ‘you want him to be happy. Oliver Russell is the finest human being I’ve ever known. I wish them both every happiness.’

She sent notes of apology to all those who had been invited to the wedding and returned their gifts.

Leslie had been half hoping for and half dreading the call from Oliver. Still, when it came, she was unprepared. She was shaken by the familiar sound of his voice.

‘Leslie … I don’t know what to say.’

‘It’s true, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then there isn’t anything to say.’

‘I just wanted to explain to you how it happened. Before I met you, Jan and I were almost engaged. And when I saw her again – I – I knew that I still loved her.’

‘I understand, Oliver. Goodbye.’

Five minutes later, Leslie’s secretary buzzed her. ‘There’s a telephone call for you on line one, Miss Stewart.’

‘I don’t want to talk to –’

‘It’s Senator Davis.’

The father of the bride. What does he want with me? Leslie wondered. She picked up the telephone.

A deep southern voice said, ‘Miss Stewart?’

‘Yes.’

‘This is Todd Davis. I think you and I should have a little talk.’

She hesitated. ‘Senator, I don’t know what we –’

‘I’ll pick you up in one hour.’ The line went dead.

Exactly one hour later, a limousine pulled up in front of the office building where Leslie worked. A chauffeur opened the car door for Leslie. Senator Davis was in the backseat. He was a distinguished-looking man with flowing white hair and a small, neat mustache. He had the face of a patriarch. Even in the fall he was dressed in his trademark white suit and white broad-brimmed leghorn hat. He was a classic figure from an earlier century, an old-fashioned southern gentleman.

As Leslie got into the car, Senator Davis said, ‘You’re a beautiful young woman.’

‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly.

The limousine started off.

‘I didn’t mean just physically, Miss Stewart. I’ve been hearing about the manner in which you’ve been handling this whole sordid matter. It must be very distressing for you. I couldn’t believe the news when I heard it.’ His voice filled with anger. ‘Whatever happened to good old-fashioned morality? To tell you the truth, I’m disgusted with Oliver for treating you so shabbily. And I’m furious with Jan for marrying him. In a way, I feel guilty, because she’s my daughter. They deserve each other.’ His voice was choked with emotion.

They rode in silence for a while. When Leslie finally spoke, she said, ‘I know Oliver. I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt me. What happened … just happened. I want only the best for him. He deserves that, and I wouldn’t do anything to stand in his way.’

‘That’s very gracious of you.’ He studied her a moment. ‘You really are a remarkable young lady.’

The limousine had come to a stop. Leslie looked out the window. They had reached Paris Pike, at the Kentucky Horse Center. There were more than a hundred horse farms in and around Lexington, and the largest of them was owned by Senator Davis. As far as the eye could see were white plank fences, white paddocks with red trim, and rolling Kentucky bluegrass.

Leslie and Senator Davis stepped out of the car and walked over to the fence surrounding the racetrack. They stood there a few moments, watching the beautiful animals working out.

Senator Davis turned to Leslie. ‘I’m a simple man,’ he said quietly. ‘Oh, I know how that must sound to you, but it’s the truth. I was born here, and I could spend the rest of my life here. There’s no place in the world like it. Just look around you, Miss Stewart. This is as close as we may ever come to heaven. Can you blame me for not wanting to leave all this? Mark Twain said that when the world came to an end, he wanted to be in Kentucky, because it’s always a good twenty years behind. I have to spend half my life in Washington, and I loathe it.’

‘Then why do you do it?’

‘Because I have a sense of obligation. Our people voted me into the Senate, and until they vote me out, I’ll be there trying to do the best job I can.’ He abruptly changed the subject. ‘I want you to know how much I admire your sentiments and the way you’ve behaved. If you had been nasty about this, I suppose it could have created quite a scandal. As it is, well – I’d like to show my appreciation.’

Leslie looked at him.

‘I thought that perhaps you would like to get away for a while, take a little trip abroad, spend some time traveling. Naturally, I’d pick up all the –’

‘Please don’t do this.’

‘I was only –’

‘I know. I haven’t met your daughter, Senator Davis, but if Oliver loves her, she must be very special. I hope they’ll be happy.’

He said awkwardly, ‘I think you should know they’re coming back here to get married again. In Paris, it was a civil ceremony, but Jan wants a church wedding here.’

It was a stab in the heart. ‘I see. All right. They have nothing to worry about.’

‘Thank you.’

The wedding took place two weeks later, in the Calvary Chapel church where Leslie and Oliver were to have been married. The church was packed.

Oliver Russell, Jan and Senator Todd Davis were standing before the minister at the altar. Jan Davis was an attractive brunette, with an imposing figure and an aristocratic air.

The minister was nearing the end of the ceremony. ‘God meant for man and woman to be united in holy matrimony, and as you go through life together …’

The church door opened, and Leslie Stewart walked in. She stood at the back for a moment, listening, then moved to the last pew, where she remained standing.

The minister was saying, ‘… so if anyone knows why this couple should not be united in holy matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold his …’ He glanced up and saw Leslie. ‘… hold his peace.’

Almost involuntarily, heads began to turn in Leslie’s direction. Whispers began to sweep through the crowd. People sensed that they were about to witness a dramatic scene, and the church filled with sudden tension.

The minister waited a moment, then nervously cleared his throat. ‘Then, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife.’ There was a note of deep relief in his voice. ‘You may kiss the bride.’

When the minister looked up again, Leslie was gone.